The dream ended where it started, where the rain softly falls, with no concrete beginning. My eyes were mirrors, under the spell of a snake charmer. I have entered another year of being enchanted, holding the evidence in my hands, as mute as a stone. My thoughts are flowers waiting to be picked in my ever expanding intellect, summoning me. I go to them and give them voices, I give them eyes, in baking soda skies, but I never know what to do with them, so I become you, looking for a cure. I crawl under the skin, under the fading red, into your most precious way of thinking. Dubious, but I go ahead. I dive into new feelings I\'ve never felt, learning you can\'t grow without living. In time, I will resurface stronger than I was, fitted like a belt around the waist, coming undone like a chronicle, a romantic poem from the golden opulence of those baroque times. I have spent today painting. Polishing the imperfections, where the light is supposed to go. I followed the ocean\'s song to the end of the waves. Finally I belong.